


Sirs, Circuits, and Sarcasm

by graywhatsit



Series: Hatbots [1]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Gen, Hat Films, bot! ross and trott, engineer! smith, the start of it all tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4096357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graywhatsit/pseuds/graywhatsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alex Smith was little, all he wanted to do when he grew up was build robots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the start

**Author's Note:**

> the start of an entire, expansive au!  
> meaning you should read this one first

When Alex Smith was in nursery school, his teacher- Miss Bishop, probably the most patient and sweetest young lady to teach this particular class- asked the twenty-odd children in the group what they’d like to do or be when they grew up; a very standard question in those formative years.

She got several answers in return, from the ordinary- doctor, teacher, veterinarian- to the not quite so ordinary- a superhero, a wizard, a dinosaur- and all were as much as could be expected from four and five year olds.

Then she came to Alex Smith, the small redhead with big blue eyes, who looked like an angel but had the temperament of a devil, and asked him.

“Alex, your turn. What would you like to do when you grow up?”

He blinked at her, then scrunched his nose up, eyes narrowing as he thought. He took it very seriously, as young children often do: this is about being a grown up, of course it’s important!

“Well, Alex?” The young teacher and the rest of the class watched him closely, waiting for his response. Everyone thought some varying degree of ‘villain’: from megalomaniacal supervillain to petty thief to (in the teacher’s case, though she hated to think of any of ‘her’ children going this route) an arsonist.

What they got was rather unexpected.

“I want to build robots!” The little ginger looked up at her, excited, eyes big and bright. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so passionate about something, other than the lighter used for lighting birthday candles and the opportunity for mischief.

“You want to build robots?” He nodded vigorously. “What kind of robots?”

“All kinds of ‘em! Ones that can make music and talk and joke and run around. Maybe even look like a human!”

That was a very ambitious aspiration, and as much of a handful this little boy could be, she couldn’t say that to him. She wasn’t in the business of crushing dreams- that came much later on in these little ones’ education.

“Human-like robots. That’s an excellent one: very unique, and I’m sure you can do it, one day.”

She’d always been more into optimism, even if others called it foolishness.

The little boy beamed up at her, and kept smiling even when she moved on to Jessie Slate, a young girl who shyly proclaimed her desire to write stories.

Miss Bishop only hoped he’d be able to keep that dream, and that smile; she’d hate to see it go away so soon.

  
  


In some way, Miss Bishop- though she never saw Alex again, after he moved on to compulsory schooling- got her wish.

Though the bright smile changed to a devilish smirk, and the earnest if destructive nature turned to just plain destructive, he was still the same little boy.

Kind of.

Except for how he stopped expressing his love for robots and all their mechanisms and intricacies in Year 5, when a larger boy- which was really quite an accomplishment, considering that Alex was never a small child to begin with- rounded up a few of his lackeys and started hounding him whenever he mentioned the subject. He may have loved it immensely, but if it kept his face from resembling what they served for lunch, he’d stop talking about it.

Or how, in Year 9, the quickly-growing Alex realized that being so genuine and cheerful didn’t exactly win him any favors with anyone, much less the people he might have been interested in. That isn’t to say he was ever a stereotypical ‘bad boy’, he just.. seemed to stop caring. Apathy and cynicism was the way for everyone to act, and if you didn’t.. either see Year 5 or have no one around you for a second. Social boy he was, Alex didn’t really think it was his fault- it was just something he had to do. Adapt to survive, and all that.

Or when he got his GCSE results and found he may as well have failed Electronics- something that might have been important for his goal. Just maybe.

He didn’t let it discourage him, though, not once. He just became more secretive, hiding it from everyone, even his friends. This was _his_ dream, so why share it? They didn’t particularly care, so there’s no need.

He finished college, went to uni to get a degree in something he was also interested in, though not nearly to this extent, and…

 

Had a job at a tool company.

Well… at least it kept him alive.

He could support himself well, even if his degree didn’t quite work out after graduation. Work during the day, run errands, come home and dick about until he had to go to bed. All pretty simple and routine, no real thought needing to go into it.

His friends did start to drift away after a little while, but it didn’t bother him too much; though, to his credit, he did attempt to keep contact, sometimes people just grow apart. There’s not much to be done about it.

It gave him a little more free time, at least, and that’s when he started.

It was rough going at first, as he’d never been much of an artist or a designer, but he sketched his first blueprint over several- admittedly quite late- nights. It really wasn’t much of anything at all, just a tiny, birdlike thing, with no real purpose in mind other than to be a toy. Almost a pet.

Over several more nights, quite a few scrapped bits, and more cuts and burns than he’d ever had in his life, he finished it. Being a little hammy, himself, and greatly enjoying old sci-fi movies, he decided on an acronym: Emu Robot Initial Concept. Or E.R.I.C. Really, he was more of an ostrich, at least in his head, but calling something Oric is just fucking weird.

What kind of a name is Oric, anyway?

E.R.I.C. kind of lived up to his name; as an initial concept, it showed. His workings were clunky, the noise it made was incredibly annoying, and- as it had no designated purpose- spent most of the time just sitting in the corner of his ‘workshop’. Still, as much as he disliked E.R.I.C., Alex couldn’t quite get rid of him. It’d be like getting rid of your first child when they turned out to be a disappointment.

He was never a master of simile.

 

Future attempts were a bit more successful, for a given definition of ‘successful’. They at least had purposes, cleaning up or turning lights on or off or something. His design even got a little better, too, and one day, he grew so confident in his abilities, he decided he could go on to life-size animatronics.

Big jump from his kettle timer, but he’d always been an ambitious man.

These schematics took weeks, and the actual build took even longer. Maybe they looked a little.. different from his original concept sketches, in that they looked creepy as fuck at night, but they were just fine during the day. Walrus doctor, bearded man, tall, green… thing, three fully working animatronics.

And, it seems he got very lucky.

Not three days after, a new restaurant- kind of like those places you’d go for kid’s parties, with pizza and games and all- advertised they needed an engineer or someone to help them out. They needed some characters and animatronics, and what luck, he had three, perfectly working ones. After making the deal and sending them off- he got a surprising amount of money for it- he never spared the place another thought.

Except he could have sworn he saw a wanted advertisement for night security for that place at least once a week. Odd.

 

He needed more practice, better materials, better _everything_ if he wanted to reach his goal. But he couldn’t do it just yet. Considering he could only just live on what he made at his job, needing to borrow tools and scrounge for scrap to build what he already had… that’d take a while.

So he scrimped and saved, did whatever he could to hone his skills. If he found any opportunity to work with electronics, especially computers, he took it. Programming was a necessity to learn, and he learned and worked at it whenever he could. He even took to sketching, hoping to be able to properly design and make something that _didn’t_ look like it had crawled out of the deepest depths of the Uncanny Valley.

It took a very, very long time.

Years and years of working and practicing and saving.

Okay, maybe not years as in _decades_ , but he was twenty-six when he could finally start building, and that’s a long time.

Considering he started when he was twenty-two.

Not long at all, but it felt like it, so that’s what matters.

He’d had basic sketches, concepts of what he wanted his final products to look like. His goal was to at least make two, but one at a time- who knows what could happen if he had two untrained, super strong androids running about?

Chaos, and not the kind he liked.

Either way, the final designs took a solid month each to finalize, and when it was finally time to start piecing metal and programming code…

He grew very nervous.

This had always been his dream, and it was happening. Right this instant, he was going to start on what he’d always wanted to do.

He almost didn’t want to start quite yet.

Pausing for a few moments, Alex went back to his designs, just for one last look. Incredibly strong, durable but easy to fix or upgrade, quick learners as he was not nearly as patient as his nursery school teacher, knowledge of their nature. Great computing power, some form of free will… excellent. And as for the looks, themselves, a couple of guys. People he could see himself being friends with, at the very least. One a bit short- at least, relatively- and bearing an odd resemblance to any number of celebrities he could think of- which _wasn’t_ intentional, really- and one only slightly smaller than Alex, himself, though paler, with dark hair. Good balance between form and function, if he did say so, himself.

He can pat himself on the back, right?

Steeling himself with a deep breath, Alex turned away from his designs, choosing the former to start with.

He’d better start quickly- his android wasn’t going to build itself.


	2. the birth of trott

He was really honestly questioning his sanity at this point.

Why had he thought this was a viable goal? It had been weeks and the basic skeleton was only half-finished.

The whole thing was so difficult, already, and he hadn’t even gotten to the programming or outer casing. He had to make sure this was absolutely perfect, and it just made it all ten times worse.

Alex very nearly gave up, moving to scrap the connected bits of metal on his work surface.

It was late at night, he was tired, his eyes and hands hurt, and he felt completely demoralized. There was no point in continuing this effort; he wouldn’t succeed, it’d just end up some horrific failure and that’s the end of his dream.

What a pisser.

The moment he touched the cold metal, though, something came to him. Feeling a little peculiar, he went for his notes and schematics, sifting through scraps of paper to find the ones on this particular build.

Sometimes, he really wished he could punch himself in the face.

Right there, in front of him, was the very reason the skeleton wasn’t coming together.

The one thing that made him question his ambitions, his dreams, his very purpose, on that little scratch sheet of paper.

He’d done his maths wrong, and it was an incredibly simple fix.

Simply switch this around, and there: what he needed in the first place.

Feeling his face burn out of humiliation, Alex grabbed his tools and went to work correcting the structure. Here’s the thing about being so frustrated and embarrassed: it can make you work _fast_.

So fast, in fact, he was done by the time he needed to go to work.

Well, fuck.

 

Now that stupid little error was corrected, he could move on- after making up for his night of no sleep, of course.

Wiring, lubrication and cooling fluid in ‘veins’, hydraulics and pumps, long cords of flexible metal making up his muscular structure. The android’s ‘brain’ was the final bit of the insides to go in, and it was an incredibly complex piece of work. A supercomputer, meant to be housed inside a skull. Human, maybe even superhuman in nature, the greatest thing he could ever make.

That he managed to piece together in about an hour.

How he did that, neither he, nor I, the narrator, have any fucking clue. It just happened and that’s about all we can say.

Sorry.

He kept it off once installed; if he were to wake and see his inner workings out like that… well.

The outer casing was next, and it was much more of a challenge.

He needed to avoid the Uncanny Valley effect like the plague, and that’s very, very difficult to do. This android needed to _be_ human, in a way- if the slightest bit were off, that would be a horrible mistake.

So he worked as hard as he could, making it as real as possible, and to his surprise, it worked! His synthetic skin was smooth and pale, fitting perfectly over the structure underneath, and his hair was, to be fair, actual human hair. Donated, of course- hairdressers often have tons of it, and what would they do with it?

His face, torso, arms, legs.. everything looked completely human! Soon enough, it just seemed like another guy lying there.

Naked.

On his table.

Alex doesn’t always think, and when it finally catches up, it bites him _hard_.

 

After _that_ issue was addressed, via clothes he was going to donate, anyway, he ran final diagnostic checks. Everything was working absolutely perfectly, the programming exactly how he wanted it to be. His greatest work yet was ready to wake up, and he put in the command to do so.

The construct on the table blinked a few times, as if getting used to the light, before sitting up perfectly straight, turning to face Alex.

Oh, god. He’d done it now; he hadn’t thought it earlier, but he’d made his creation- dare he say it, in any sense- _cute_. In an odd, weepy-eyed and floppy-haired sort of way, which was not his particular cup of tea. Still, excellent work, Alex. Nice one.

“Hello, Trott.” He’d liked the sound of that name for him, but couldn’t be asked to find words to fit it as an acronym. Acronyms were stupid, anyway.

He blinked at the human **[Alex Smith, creator. Male. Age 26. Callouses indicate preference for video games, guitar playing, and engineering. Current expression indicates excitement, disbelief.]** , pausing for a few moments. After ‘waking’, he would need a short period of time to reach full capacity. After a second or so, he opened his mouth to return the programmed greeting: “Hello, Smith.” With any luck, he’d come up with his own in the end, but this worked as a placeholder.

Nothing came out.

Alex’s brow furrowed, and he moved a tad closer to find the source of the problem.

“Maybe I need to fix his hearing- hello, Trott,” he repeated, a little louder. The android opened his mouth again, mouthing the correct response, but no sound came out.

Was it just him, or did Trott seem _worried_?

“Shit, must not have put in your voice. Alright, hold on a second..” Alex, a little disappointed and mentally kicking himself for the mistake, reached to turn him off.

Trott quickly backed away, eyes wide. Okay, there was no imagining that. That was _fear_ , and he didn’t think he’d been able to program something like that.

“Hey, it’s okay. Promise, it won’t hurt you, and it won’t be but a second.” He didn’t think he’d programmed pain, either, but if fear and worry were there.. He placed a hand on his arm gently, knowing for a fact the touch sensors were working.

The creation looked down at his arm, eyes wide still, but for a different reason. **[Touch. Soft, callouses on fingers. Skin temperature 34 degrees Celsius, light pressure indicating ???- no, comfort. Similar findings in tone of voice.]** Raising his free hand very carefully, Trott moved to place it on Alex’s.

“Yeah, see? You’ll be fine, promise. It’ll just be a little nap, maybe ten minutes, then you’ll be all set.” It was almost like speaking to a child, which- considering he was only turned on maybe five minutes ago- was accurate. As he moved to turn him off, he gripped a little tighter. Thank god he limited his strength.

“What? I already said..” The look he gave him was almost pleading, and god damn it, it should not work so well. An android should not have puppy dog eyes. “Okay, okay. I can do it one-handed; you just keep hold of my hand, okay?” Well, he looked much more relaxed at that. He’d have time to worry about these odd happenings later. With a brief smile- one that got another wide-eyed look from Trott- he entered the command to turn him off.

 

He kept him off for a good several days after the initial test.

Why? Well.. not only was his voice not installed, the very mechanism that allowed for it wasn’t even built into what could be called his throat..

And he couldn’t find it in any part of his house, much less in his box of scrap.

So he left Trott laying on the workbench, completely in stasis, whilst he waited to come across the parts needed to craft a new one.

He was sorely tempted to wake the android again, to both explain to him what happened and- to be perfectly honest- to finally have some company. He’d thought the loss of his friends hadn’t affected him, but.. well, he was a social creature. He didn’t do well on his own.

But Trott was just a robot, and a voiceless one, at that- it wouldn’t matter whether Alex explained or not, and he likely wouldn’t make for a good companion, being absolutely silent. There would be absolutely no point in it.

Even if it did stop the twinge of guilt he felt every time he saw him laying there, looking very much like a man just sleeping, despite the noticeable absence of the rise and fall of his chest.

Which made him look dead, and he’d very quickly need to fix that, because that was almost as creepy as those animatronics he’d fashioned all that time ago.

Yeah, he’d just tough it out until those bits and bobs came in. Shouldn’t be too long, right?


	3. bugs

In the grand scheme of things, a month isn’t long, not really.

Unless you are some specific species of insects, in which case it could be your entire life, birth to death, egg to corpse. If you’re lucky enough to not be killed earlier.

Or you’re an incredibly impatient person, like Alex.

He’d been growing more and more irritable with each passing day, cursing courier services and shipping and distributing companies alike. How hard could it be? Why would it take weeks to deliver a few bits of metal, for fuck’s sake! As well as the cost, it could hardly weigh enough to require that much shipping, and it didn’t come from _that_ far away, honestly-

You get the idea.

Either way, with the mechanism _finally_ in his possession, he could get to work. So, after he got home from his day job, which was becoming more and more dull as time passed, he locked himself in his little workshop and set to fixing up his creation.

He really needed to get past his human looks, especially when fixing him up. Having his throat wide open and seeing metal alloys and wires rather than flesh was incredibly weird. Why he’d thought this was a good idea, he had no clue.

The last few connections made, along with the proper voice chip implanted, and he was finished. Excellent, now he could turn him back on and everything would be right as rain!

Hopefully.

That word had really become a common fixture in his vocabulary recently. Which isn’t really a good sign for anything, because that betrays uncertainty and uncertainty leads to all sorts of chaos and mishaps. The kinds he _didn’t_ like.

Again.

“Alright, Trotty,” Alex mumbled under his breath, closing up the panel, once again making the android look fully human. “Time to wake up.”

A simple input command and.. he blinked awake, brown eyes glassy but slowly focusing, becoming much more human.

Then quickly rolling back into his head, showing pure white and a touch of his orange circuitry..

The android’s face contorted into some hideous monstrosity, mouth open wide, tongue lolling, as the most god awful, inhuman screech the redhead had ever heard escaped him.

This was pure, high octane nightmare fuel, probably the scariest thing he’d witnessed in his life. He was only glad he’d relieved himself before deciding to work.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Alex lept back about a foot, quickly reaching for something he could use, just in case he couldn’t deactivate him again. This is bad, this is so bad, he never accounted for this sort of thing, how the fuck was he supposed to-

“You said ten minutes. That is what you get for taking a month.”

Alex blinked. Trott was sitting up, perfectly calm, a hint of a smile on his face. He looked quite pleased at his sort of revenge. **[Retribution successful. Desired reaction attained. Quite pleasing, should attempt again.]**

When the fuck had he given him a sense of humor _that_ twisted?

“What the fuck was that? Your face, that noise…” That may very well give him nightmares, good god. That came from the bowels of hell, he knew it.

“I do not know. I just could do it, and so I did. You deserved it, breaking a promise like that.” Okay, his speech was a little stilted, but that could easily be taught, no need to reprogram manually. His voice seemed awfully deep, coming from a smaller, more peaceful-looking ‘person’, but.. it somehow fit.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again.” You know, you’d sound a little more threatening if your voice didn’t quaver so much. “I _can_ deactivate you, and you know it. I will turn you back into scrap metal.”

 **[Idle threat detected; no danger of disassembly or deactivation.]** “Of course. No more scares.”

Did he detect a hint of smugness in his voice? That little piece of junk.

“Alright, Trott, before we do anything else, I need to ask you a few questions.” This is the real test; if Trott answers how he’s meant to, he’ll have successfully created a working, existing android, the first of his kind.

Holy shit, was this is exciting.

“Now, first question: who are you?”

The android sat up a little straighter, his eyes once again taking the slightly glassy look. A little odd- he marked it on the scrap of paper next to him.

“I am Trott, an android, the first of my kind, built by Alex Smith and first activated on July 18, 2014, though properly completed on August 18, 2014. My purpose is companionship, and I am the culmination of my creator’s efforts.”

“And your abilities?”

“Superhuman strength and durability, though my strength has been limited for safety reasons. Computing power equal to or even outranking both commercial and private computers, as well as the human brain. Learning capacity equal to any human, as well as a basic personality, appearing completely human due to my outer casing and programmed mannerisms.”

He sounded quite robotic, and not in the stilted sense. There was no change in his tone, and he was straight and to the point; not even the slightest hint of human emotion as he spoke. Though he answered correctly… something was wrong.

“And who am I?”

That, at least, seemed to bring a bit of warmth back. “You are Alex Smith, my creator. Born May 20th, 1988; age 26. From Somerset, England. Creator of many automations with various purposes, not just myself, in a span of a few short years; considered an exceptional talent by some.”

Alright, he’s got-

“Also scares very easily, and screams at a pitch reminiscent of a young girl.”

What the fuck, really? He leveled a glare at the android, who only grinned at him in return.

“Any chance of you forgetting that?”

“I do not forget, Smith; you have made sure of that.” As literal as he was, there was no mistaking it: he was _definitely_ taking the piss out of him now.

“How about not mentioning it?”

Trott watched him for a moment, looking thoughtful. **[Humans often take something in return for goods and services. As a human analogue, I must act as such.]** Slowly, he nodded, keeping his eyes on Alex. “I could be persuaded, Smith.”

“Oh, so you’re bargaining, now?” When he’d programmed him, yes, he put in some basic knowledge- everything he deemed important to know, as a human- but he didn’t think he’d learn things _this_ quickly. “Alright, fine. What do you want, then?”

“Books. I want to read things, Smith.” With that, he pushed himself off of the worktable, standing solidly on two feet before going to take a step. **[Lift leg, bend knee, keeping opposite firmly-]**

He fell on his artificial face with a surprisingly comical thud.

Knowledge can only take you so far, it seemed, and Alex snorted. Had he been able to blush, he was sure Trott would be now.

“And perhaps teaching me to walk. Please.”

Well, he could at least sound embarrassed, muffled as it was. “Alright, Scrott, I’ll help you out. If I’m gonna take you outside eventually, you’ll need to know.” The redhead reached down to pull up the- rather light- creation, steadying him when he once again became upright.

“That is not-” **[Nickname, often used amongst close individuals as a sign of friendship or affection.]** “Oh. Thank you. Outside?”

The very idea of it made him incredibly excited, and it was very visible, in his eyes widening, staring at Alex with this sort of awe.

Jesus Christ, it really was like dealing with a little boy.

A little boy who could bargain and fuck with him to no end.

Not for the first time, he had to wonder: _why_ was this a good idea, again?


	4. baby's first steps

I have a little challenge for you.

Try and teach someone- a grown person- how to walk.

Or at least, slow down and try to teach yourself how to walk.

Suddenly, something so simple became so incredibly complicated.

That’s about how the entire ‘Teach Trott to walk’ campaign went, but at least it didn’t take months, thanks to his ability to learn.

Dear god, was Alex thankful for that.

It took hours, instead, and that was far more than enough for the both of them.

“Look, mate, I’m just a few steps away.” He spread his arms, gesturing for the- quite nervous looking- android to come closer. “It isn’t that hard, just move your legs.”

“I have _tried_ moving my legs.” Trott sniffed, though it served no purpose other than to make him sound miffed. “Just moving does not work, Smith. Can you walk and show me again?”

Hearing a robot plead is one of the weirdest things he’s ever done, and there was no way in hell he would fall for that look again. Maybe.

“ _No_ , Trott, that’s not how it works. You know how humans learn stuff?”

He blinked, giving him a confused look. “Through.. study?”

“Some things, but you don’t need to know those.” Considering he’s a computer, he could easily find those out on his own, though he knows about what Alex does in terms of education. Can’t have much of a conversation if you have to bring him completely up to speed. “No, this stuff? Good old fashioned trial and error- you want to do it? Try to until you get it.”

Trott gaped at him, disbelieving. “That is horribly inefficient! Surely there is some-”

Jesus Christ, really? You’d think he wouldn’t be so argumentative.

“Trott, just fucking walk, already! If you fall, get back up and try again, it won’t hurt you at all!”

“How would you know? I fell once, and my face still stings!”

“Because I learned how to walk, too! Just get over here, for fuck’s sake..” Alex crossed his arms; his patience was almost completely depleted- he’d never been too terribly forgiving in the first place, but now?

Glowering- at least as much as an android could glower- Trott took a step forward, promptly stumbling.

“Smith-”

“Try again, mate. You want to learn, you put the effort in.” After a moment, he continued. “No one starts this completely cold turkey, you know. There’s a reason they’re called baby steps, and why we have training wheels.”

Trott, now slowly steadying himself with both hands on the workbench, tilted his head. “You are going to put _wheels_ on me? I am not a bicycle, Smith!”

Really? He sighed, fighting the urge to place his head in his hands.

“No, that’s not what-”

“I am an android, I do not roll, I walk!”

“Trott, that’s not-”

“I will not have this- imagine me with _wheels_ , honestly.”

“I-” He could feel himself starting to heat up, though he wasn’t sure how much of it was frustration and how much was being flustered by his mistake.

“Smith, you are turning a most interesting color; are you alright?” **[Attempt successful; target reached. This shall become a new hobby.]**

If that wasn’t the most shit-eating grin he’d ever seen; the little fucker _knew_.

“No, fuck you, I’m not helping anymore. Once you’ve figured it out, I’m taking you back to the scrap heap.” With that, he turned to walk away. And maybe pour himself a drink.

 **[Threat no longer so idle. Perhaps it shall not become a hobby.]** “Wait, Smith! Please!” He didn’t want to be bits of metal rusting away- **[Alloy resistant to rust and corrosion, though still potential hazards.]** Yes,  _thank_ you- in some junkyard, and in no way did he want to leave his creator. Without even really thinking about it, the android hobbled over to Alex, one hand firmly on the solid wooden workbench to keep him steady. “I am sorry,” he continued, a little softer. “I need the help, really-”

“No, you don’t.” He liked the look of that grin, sly as it was.

And oddly close, so- **[Goal achieved! Finally, mobility!]**

“I did it? I did!” His excitement was incredibly contagious- how could he not be happy for him?

“That you did, my friend. Here’s a little trick to learning things.” He placed both hands on Trott’s shoulders, keeping him upright in his celebration. “Stop thinking about it. You’ll be surprised how far you get.”

“Stop thinking about it.” He repeated the sentence slowly, as if it were some secret to the universe.

Never had someone taken Alex’s word so seriously. He could certainly get used to that. “See? You’ve got it now, so practice!”

“Yeah. Yeah, now I know what to do- just stop thinking!” Trott, now confident, took a step back.

Almost immediately getting his foot tangled in some spare cable and crashing to the floor.

“Not completely.. and, uh, watch where you’re going, too. Forgot to mention that.”

 

Trott had it, more or less, in a couple hours of practice, and since that point in time, it was hard to get him to sit down for more than a few seconds, save for when he ran out of power. A simple plug in for a couple hours- usually when Alex was sleeping, himself- solved that.

Even if waking up in the workshop all alone was.. not a very good feeling.

The other thing that wouldn’t stop moving, other than his legs, was his mouth- at least, when it came to a certain topic.

“Smith.”

The man in question hardly looked up from his work, only grunting to show he was listening.

“My books, Smith.”

“What about them?” He must not have put ‘direct’ into his programming.

“I’ve finished them. I want more, please.”

Now that made him look up. “Wait, you what? You couldn’t have- I gave you a huge stack!” At least six, on various subjects and of different lengths. Yesterday.

“Yes, you did. And I’ve finished that huge stack, so I want more.” He’d promised, hadn’t he? He could recall the very moment he made it, as well, somewhere in his memory banks. **[August 18, 2014, 6:05 pm. Memory recovery working at full capacity.]** “If you don’t want to, I can go and-”

“No.” The idea of Trott going out now, as he was.. that was a disaster waiting to happen. He’d learned incredibly quickly, thanks to his voracious reading and drive, but he was nowhere near ready to go out alone. Even if he’d started to sound and act more human. “I’ll go and borrow some more. Even though I think we’ve borrowed the entire library at this point,” he mutters, pushing aside his tools.

“It’s been a month, and our library has thousands of books. We haven’t.” Still a bit literal on occasion, but still- progress.

“Still a lot of books, Trott. I’ll be back in a little bit, you know the drill.”

Well, yes, of course he- **[Figure of speech.]** Right. “Yeah, I know.” Be careful and stay inside. Easy enough.

“Good boy.” With a bit of a smirk, Alex clapped him on the shoulder and headed out to retrieve what he needed. Hey, he only gave what he got in return. Usually.

It didn’t take long for him to get back, with a much larger stack- ten, and thick ones- of books.

“You know,” he started, dumping them on the couch next to the incredibly delighted android, “I think they think we’re not actually reading these. Like I come in there to flirt or something.”

“You don’t?” Trott looked up from the first book, already a few pages in, and raised an eyebrow. He never thought he’d be sassed by a robot, but that’s what he got for building one.

“Not exclusively. Mostly for you, Trotty.” He moved a hand up to ruffle his hair- prompting a greatly unpleased noise from said creation, who quickly attempted to flatten it back. “Have fun with those- now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He got no response from Trott, nose buried back in the book once again. Of course.

 

“Smith.”

No. No. He’s got to be fucking kidding, he is _not_ finished yet, it’s only been two hours.

“Smith.”

No, not yet, I’m almost-

“Smith, look!”

“What?” His tone was surely justified- anyone would be more than a bit touchy if interrupted in the middle of something. He blinked, a little confused, as Trott showed him one of his books.

“Look, here!” He tapped one of the pages, and Alex squinted, looking a little closer.

“What is it? The story? Look, I’m a little busy-”

“No, not the story! This, the name!” **[Potential eyesight failure; result of engineering?]** He pointed again, a little more insistently. Alex rolled his eyes, but read what the android was so focused on.

“Chris. Yeah, it’s a name, what about it?”

“I like it.”

“And..? Come on, sound it out, mate.” There had better be a point to this, or so help him-

“Can it be… my name? I really like it.” He looked completely genuine, even a little hesitant in asking for it. This wasn’t something to piss him off again.

He really wanted this, and that was fairly strange.

“Your name is Trott, though. You don’t like that one?” He’s not _against_ him changing it- he has free will, he can do it if he wants, no problem- he just wants him to be sure.

And that was kind of the name he gave the android, so he’s understandably a bit attached.

“I do, of course I do!” He backpedaled quickly, eyes wide. “Really, I like it, it’s _been_ my name, and I don’t want to get rid of it. You just have two names- three if you count middle- and almost every other human does, too. So..”

“You think it might help.” That it would- only being able to say Trott when asked about his name would be more than a little odd if they ever went out. “Good idea, Trotty. Chris Trott, it is.”

“Chris Trott.” He looked incredibly pleased with his new name. “Thanks, Smith.”

“That’s alright- and I’m not calling you by your first name. What can I say, I’m used to Trott, grown on me.” Both the name and the construct, himself.

“Could say the same about Smith.” Trott shrugged slightly. “I’ll leave you to whatever you’re working on.”

“Thank you.” As the android left the room, he could faintly hear him repeating his new name. He snorted; what a scrap- and he meant that fondly, of course.


	5. trott gets jealous

Alright, so his first ever android was a complete success.

That was his dream, right? Build a robot that looked and acted completely human, nigh indistinguishable from the real thing. And he’d done it.

Well, actually…

_“I want to build robots!” - Alex Smith, age 5_

Robot _s_. With an ‘S’.

And who could really ever stop at one? Doesn’t work for Pringles, doesn’t work for robots. Just how these things work.

Don’t question it.

 _Anyway_ , he wanted more. Besides, he _did_ make a second set of schematics all that time ago, for another android. Now that Trott was, ah, educated, it would be perfectly fine to start work on the second.

So, after some time of gathering together all of the necessary parts- which took much less time, considering he knew what he was looking for for once- he piled them all in the workshop and set to work.

Second tries always go much smoother, and he was doing incredibly well, checking his maths and using and creating shortcuts as he went. The entire building process was much less stressful.

But he’d never expected Trott to take an interest.

“Smith?” The construct stood in the doorway, eyes resting on the workbench against the wall. “What’s that?”

“Something new.” It was a common answer- partly to frustrate the android and partly because, honestly, whatever he usually worked on never resulted in a finished product. Curse of the creative, really.

“That’s a pretty big new project,” Trott commented, and moved into the room, shifting to see past the taller body blocking the item from view. “Seriously, tell me!”

Alex looked up at him, more than a touch exasperated. “Mate, it’s just a pile of parts! It’s nothing at all- weren’t you reading a book?” He waved a hand. “Go and finish it or something, let me work on this.”

“I did finish it. And-” he interrupted at the ginger man’s look, “-all of the other ones. Why are you hiding it?” He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “It.. it isn’t some sort of upgrade or something, is it?”

Trott suddenly looked very worried, and Alex really couldn’t bring himself to stay so evasive.

“No, Trott, it isn’t. Nothing to do with you, promise.” He tapped the workbench with his screwdriver, pondering, before shifting to allow Trott to see. “Come here, you can see.”

A little relieved, the curious android- quite cautiously, remembering to watch his step- made his way over. There, on the worktable, was a half-finished skeletal structure. **[Same alloy, similar structure, if a bit larger. Android support structure.]**

“See?” Alex placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “Not an upgrade- another android!”

Another.. **[Replacement.]** Trott blinked, still staring down at the construction. No, it couldn’t be. They were friends, he was Smith’s first, his own creation! There was no way in hell he could be simply replaced.

**[Humans often replace what cannot be mended. Structure far more solid, wider; from what can be seen, proportions larger, lending to height and strength.]**

… Mended? But he wasn’t broken! There was nothing wrong with him, at all! He was working at full capacity, exactly according to function! Was it his odd faces? Faulty voice mechanism? He could fix those, easily- and besides, Smith never really had too much of a problem with it, when he wasn’t being scared shitless by it. So why now?

**[Items also replaced when humans tire of them.]**

Smith was _bored_? Of him?

… Well, he had been growing a little distant recently. More in here than anything else, seeming more irritable than usual during interaction.

Maybe Smith really just didn’t want him anymore, and that.. that gave him a strange feeling. A sort of emotional hurt that he could only really place in his chest, as if someone were pulling out his inner workings and mechanisms. He didn’t like it at all.

“Trott? You there? Oh, god, he’s frozen now..” Alex sighed, reaching for his access panel.

**[Restart imminent.]**

“Huh? No, I’m fine!” He jerked his head up, eyes immediately moving to Alex’s face. “Kinda got lost in thought. A new one, huh?”

“Yeah.” Skeptical, and a bit worried, Alex searched his face. Nothing there, looked completely normal, if his eyes were a bit glassy. Though, to be fair, they often looked that way with the desk lamp. “It’ll take some time, but I’m faster now, know loads more tricks. Shouldn’t take me near as long as you did.”

It wasn’t meant that way, but it made the sharp feeling in his middle worse.

“I bet, with how much you practice in here. Not the only thing you do in here, filthy sod.” Insult humor hid it well. Good to know.

“You know me. Love a good robot, really gets me going.” Well, he sounds back to normal, at least. “If you’re done talking about what I do behind closed doors, may I?” Alex gestured toward the table.

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead.” Trott quickly moved out of the way, allowing him to go back to work. He wouldn’t leave the room quite yet, however; no, he was thinking, and by the time he actually headed off, only one thing was really certain.

He would _not_ be replaced.

 

The next few weeks were very full of work for Alex- most of his time was spent working on his new project, fitting metal and creating circuitry- and for the first couple of days, everything was pretty much normal.

Then everything went.. off.

As in: one day, when he reached into his tools for his screwdriver, it was gone.

Now, Alex wasn’t exactly the _neatest_ man in existence, but he always knew where his tools were. Always, no matter where he put them last.

He about tore his workshop apart looking for it, and when it wasn’t in there, the rest of the house ended up the same way, to no avail. The damned thing was nowhere to be found, and the only other person in the house had no interest in it. If one of his parts needed fixing, he went to Alex, simple as that, knowing he’d fix it immediately.

Still, wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“Hey, Trott.”

“Hey.” The android pressed the pause button when Alex looked at him expectantly. “…Anything I can help you with?”

“Missing my screwdriver, have you seen it?”

“Not since I last saw you using it.” He shrugged, turning back to his game. “Sorry. Hope you find it, though.”

A little chilly, but he was focused on his game; he got the same way, on occasion. “Right, well, if you see it, tell me.” He got a grunt in response, and that was a cue to leave.

Well… even if he couldn’t screw him together, he could at least get a start on something else. Setbacks were part of this whole thing- he’d had plenty with Trott, it was no issue.

 

Until it kind of was.

Every single day, something went wrong: tool missing, faulty wiring, skeleton fell apart. Every time he needed to build something or fix what had gone wrong the previous day, something else would happen, and it pissed him off to no end.

And Trott seemed completely oblivious.

But Alex wasn’t blind- he’d been around much longer that Trott- he’d _created_ him, obviously- and so knew when someone wasn’t entirely trustworthy.

Such as when he grew very quiet and almost sullen when Alex went to work, or seemed almost overjoyed when he finally relented and did something else.

How he never made eye contact when asked about the missing items.

The android was raising plenty of red flags- he knew about this, but he wasn’t saying a word, and that wasn’t on.

He hated to do it- well, most of the time- but Alex could certainly play dirty if the situation called for it. If Trott knew where these things were, he’d find out, and make sure he never got them again.

 

So, the next morning, instead of going about his business and waiting for Trott to fully recharge and wake up on his own, he crept into the workshop and opened up the access panel.

“Sorry, mate,” he mumbled, typing in the commands and code, “but you didn’t give me much choice.” He could explain it properly, later, after all this was over.

Accessing memory was no issue- well, other than being a huge invasion of privacy- so he could easily find what he was looking for. Proof in the pudding; Trott swiping tools, sabotaging the android, everything. Why, he still had no idea, but he did have this, at least.

Every spot he visited after held one of the missing items, and before long, he had his full collection back. Now.. what to do about Trott?

He wouldn’t be pleased at this kind of betrayal, he knew that- even if telling him outright was probably the best option.. well, would you want to make a robot with super strength angry?

Didn’t think so.

He could handle that part, easy, but how to keep him from doing it again?

That took quite a bit more thought, but.. maybe it was something he should have done some time ago.

 

When Trott finally powered back on, he realized several things.

One: it was much later than his usual wake up time of 6:00 AM, which was typically when Smith woke up for work.

and Two: this was not the workshop.

It was Alex’s bedroom- something he’d only been in to get clothes or clean up when it was his turn. Had to keep busy somehow.

He was laying on the bed, and- reaching back to feel his cable- was plugged in. He was moved? Why?

After stumbling out into the hall- it took his mechanisms some time to work properly after a long sleep- he moved down to find Alex, bumping into him as he reached the living room.

“Hey, finally. Good sleep?” Awfully cheerful, but anything that sounded somewhat kind was fine by him.

“Yeah- did you move me? Why was I in your room?” Alex gave him an odd look.

“I did. Shouldn’t be staying in the workshop- you trip every morning trying to get out,” he teased, nudging the bewildered android.

“I-”

“Seriously, though, you needed a real room. And since I don’t _have_ an extra one, you’re rooming with me. Hope you don’t mind, I’m a blanket hog.” After clapping him on the shoulder, the human quickly headed down to the workshop, leaving Trott- still confused and increasingly awed- staring after him.

It was the truth, really- he _did_ need a real room- but it served a second purpose; a new bit of programming would keep him _out_ of the workshop. He needed to finish his project, and that couldn’t happen if Trott kept trying to ruin it.

He’d find out sooner or later, but hey, those are the consequences.

 

It tricked him.

When he found that Alex was working again, Trott immediately went to take back the tools.

Only to find he couldn’t enter.

No matter what he tried, he’d always encounter some sort of block, along with a warning message. He couldn’t get around it in the slightest, no matter what he tried.

He was stuck on the outside, whilst Alex made progress.

Alex.. he did it. He programmed this, made it so he couldn’t go in.

Which meant he knew, somehow.

The betrayal- whilst bad- wasn’t anything compared to the idea that with every day, the new android was closer to being finished.

And Trott was that much closer to being obsolete and replaced.

If he could actually, physically be sick, he would be. He was honestly afraid, and it showed more and more with every day.

He grew more stilted in his speech, and he found it hard for his body to respond to mental commands, which sounded more and more robotic.

He honestly felt like he was shutting down, and when the day came, he found he couldn’t do much other than sit on the couch, waiting for his replacement to be introduced.

“Hey, Tro- oh, you’re already here, good!” **[Excitement. Slight anxiety. New scrapes indicate last minute adjustments.]** “I’ve finished him! Well, come on!” He spoke the last words back into the hall.

The new, as of yet unnamed android easily walked into the room, standing beside Alex. Just shorter than his creator, he looked just as human as Trott did, save for his eyes. Few people had eyes that blue, or that striking.

**[Ease of movement, pre-programmed; adjusted skeleton adds for balance and strength; aesthetics much closer to human standards.]**

“Trott, meet, ah..” Alex scratched at his beard, looking over at the new construct, uncertain. “What did I put in when I was programming you?”

“Djh3max,” he replied, simply. “That is the name you gave me.”

“Yeah, that.” The human looked back at Trott with a shrug. “I was tired and I keysmashed a bit. His new name’s Ross- kinda looks like a guy I knew named that.”

“Ross.” **[Construct: Ross. Purpose: replacement, companionship.]** “I am glad you finished him.” He couldn’t help glaring at his supposed replacement.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t seem like it, mate- what’s wrong with you?” He’d gone severely glassy-eyed, and this was no trick of the light.

“Nothing is wrong with me. All checks show I am working at full capacity.”

As if he believed that for a second.

“He will do well in his purpose. When will you be taking me to the junkyard?”

The ginger man blinked at him, taken aback. “What? I’m not taking you to the junkyard! What the fuck, you know I wouldn’t do that!”

“He is my replacement. You have no need of me.” Though his speech was still stilted and stiff… he didn’t think a robot could ever sound _heartbroken_.

“I am not your replacement, Trott,” Ross chipped in, helpfully. “I am just the second android built- we will both stay.”

“Yeah, what he said. Trott, you’re my _friend_. You don’t replace friends, just..” He gestured with his hands for a moment, unsure of how to continue. “Make new ones. Trust me, mate, you’re not going anywhere you don’t want to.”

Trott at least looked a little more responsive, glancing up at him warily. “But you spent more time working.”

Alex winced. “Yeah, alright, I did. I could have handled this all better.”

“Could have?” He raised an eyebrow- well, his attitude was returning.

“Definitely, and should have. Didn’t mean to make you feel like that, Trott, promise.”

The android stayed very quiet, watching his creator carefully. Finally, he nodded, then glanced over at Ross. “… Did you pre-program Trials skills?”

Alex snorted. “No, I didn’t. I program basics, not how good you are at video games.”

“Then I’m a natural,” Trott replied, grinning for what seemed like the first time in days. “I need to see if he is- hey, Ross, come here. If anyone has a chance of beating me, it’s you.”

“I can take it back, you know. Both of you to the scrap heap.”

Trott shook his head, handing a second controller to a fascinated Ross. “Nah, already said you wouldn’t. Now shut up, I have someone to teach.”


	6. gastronomy

And teach him, Trott did.

Alex had thought it his own job to teach Ross how to act human- his creation, and he did it with Trott, so his responsibility- but Trott wasn’t having it.

He’d warmed to his fellow construct during their first game of Trials, and decided to take him under his wing, bringing him up to speed in just about everything human he’d learned through his own months of life.

No skin off Alex’s nose- it just gave him more time to practice and tinker with new ideas, and kept Trott from constantly asking him to go to the library.

Dear god, he was grateful for it. At least, at the start.

Of course, being human wasn’t the only thing the shorter android taught his companion, no. He also taught him how to frustrate Alex to no end, as was his own specialty.

Or maybe he just learned that on his own. Either way, he was good at it.

For one thing, he was _loud_. So, so incredibly loud- though Trott could be, as well, Ross reveled in his abilities, rarely going below a shout if he could help it. And he almost always could. He could be working on something on one side of the house, and his second robot could be as far away as possible, in the furthest room, and he could hear him clear as a bell.

And about as loud as a train.

Explains the last name ‘Hornby’, doesn’t it? Alex did always enjoy his references. It just fit too well for him to resist.

At least it made for an excellent alarm clock.

Both Alex and Trott had ways with music- in terms of playing and singing, and they did occasionally play together- but Ross..

He was a different story.

He didn’t have the best voice, and his ability with instruments wasn’t exactly on their level, but he certainly had a way with noise.

He was actually _phenomenal_ at beatboxing.

Maybe phenomenal is a bit of an exaggeration, but there’s no denying he had talent. Any chance he could, he’d come up with a new rhythm, sounding it perfectly, easily looping and never missing a beat.

Well, he was an android, after all, but still. Talent.

 

It even lended to the three of them working together on projects, and it just _worked_. Maybe it was because of the creator/creation relationship, or the fact that they were just constructs, but they clicked. One could even call it a hive mind, if one wanted; everyone knew their spot, knew their role, and- pun partially intended- they worked like a well oiled machine.

Okay, entirely intended.

But as well as they fit, they did frustrate each other on occasion, as mentioned before. No one, not even an android, can please everyone all of the time.

Such as the time Ross decided he needed a sense of taste.

Perhaps I should back up a little…

 

Alex never really had much of a sweet tooth, even when he was little. Sure, he did like the occasional baked good or confection as much as anyone, but he didn’t crave it, as some do.

But hey, he’d been working hard, and the Kinder was right there, so why not?

The two androids greeted him when he joined them on their- admittedly tiny- couch, never looking away from the screen in front of them. He really needed to get them another hobby.

Watching them play their game, he unwrapped the bar, taking a bite of the sweet candy.

“What’s that?” Ross looked at the bar, a quizzical look on his face. Alex glanced over at him, a bit confused.

“Kinder,” he answered, slowly, holding it out a bit for the android to see better.

“Kinder.” Ross paused, searching through his databanks, matching name to product. **< Candy, chocolate. Kinder.> **Something to eat, then. “How is it?”

“Good? It’s a treat, wouldn’t get something that wasn’t good.” He’d never shown this much interest in food before, the same as his predecessor. “Why?”

“I want to try it.”

Now that caught even Trott’s attention. “Try it?” The shorter of the pair paused the game, turning to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “Mate, we don’t eat. We can’t.”

Ross huffed. “So? I want to try it!” Seeing a pout on a grown man’s face, especially one that’s actually a robot, is a strange experience.

“So,” Alex started, slowly, as if to a child, “there would be no point. It wouldn’t fill you up, and you wouldn’t be able to taste it. All that would happen is you smashing it up and wasting it.”

“Well, then..” His brow furrowed as he crossed his arms, pondering. “I want to be able to. Make me able to.”

“Able to, what, taste?” Trott gave him a look, then turned to his creator. “Can you do that?”

He shrugged, taking another bite of his bar- noting the actual jealousy on Ross’ face and wisely putting it away. “Fuck if I know. Could give it a try, but the food still wouldn’t have anywhere to go, so it’s still a bit pointless.”

Ross threw his hands up. “Then make somewhere for it to go! _Please_ , Smith?”

Oh, god, and he thought Trott’s pleading was bad.

“I’ll try and think of something, just- for god’s sake, stop looking at me like that!”

Not that his beaming and profuse thanks were much better.

 

This was a _stupid_ idea, but he’d promised, and Alex wasn’t one to go back on his word.

Even if it was stupid and bound to lead to disaster.

He sketched and reasoned and scrapped, trying to come up with a basic sort of.. well, _digestive_ system. The human one is somewhat difficult, but he’d managed to simulate the nervous system well enough, and this didn’t have to be near as complicated as that.

Besides, it was just a prototype.

Ross constantly popping in and asking about progress, or offering to help, or watching, did not help him. He was sorely tempted to install the program he’d used on Trott all those months ago, just so he’d stop.

He did the next best thing, though- got Trott to take care of it.

The smaller android never looked too happy with him, but he’d make it up to him.

Eventually.

Finally, after a few weeks, he’d managed a rough design- a system that would allow for safe disposal of the pulverized foodstuffs.

Basically digestion. He hated wasting food.

Taste was a little trickier, but new sensors built into his tongue might work, if he could integrate them into his programming. And not horribly damage him.

Probably wouldn’t happen.

So, his adjustments finalized, he called Ross into the workshop, put him to ‘sleep’, and began his work.

 

It took a couple hours, but eventually all of the upgrades- if he could call them that- were made.

“Alright, Ross. Up you get.” Alex helped the android sit up as he powered back on. Ross looked around a tad groggily.

“You did it?” **< Duration: 3 hours. Upgrades complete.> **He moved his tongue around in his mouth. “I don’t taste anything!”

Alex rolled his eyes, getting him off of the workbench. “That’s because you haven’t _eaten_ anything yet. Before you start going crazy, you need to know some things, alright?”

“Yeah, what is it?” He crossed his arms impatiently; he’d waited long enough, damn it, and he wanted to start _now_!

“You have a tank now. It’ll store the ground up food after you swallow it, but it won’t keep it from rotting. You need to empty it at least once a day, alright?”

Ross blinked at him. “Empty it? Like shit?”

“I- yes. Like shit. It won’t be digested, just bits of the food you ate already, but pretty much, yes.” He’d taken to swears a bit faster than Alex had predicted, and that included the vulgar stuff. Not that he was above it, himself, just..

“So it’s just food? You could eat it?”

“Yes, but for the love of god, do _not_ eat it.” When Ross opened his mouth, Alex interrupted. “No, I won’t either, and neither will anyone else. Just put it in the garbage and leave it there.”

“But you said it was-”

“ _No_.” The severity of the look Alex gave him made Ross quickly drop the issue. That look promised deactivation.

Or the removal of his new upgrades.

“Alright, alright! So, can I try a Kinder, now?”

Good lord, he was a child. “Yeah, come on. One in the kitchen, I think.”

A _heavy_ child, Alex mused, picking himself up after being bowled over by an incredibly excited Ross. Or like.. some big, happy, dumb dog.

Something like that.

 

There it was.

Sitting right in front of him on the counter, wrapped in red and white, big letters proclaiming that this was, in fact, what he’d been hoping for.

He licked his lips. Not because he had any saliva or anything, but more out of imitation. Humans do that when faced with something delicious. And surely this would be.

Carefully, Ross lifted the small bar, peeling back the paper to reveal the light brown confection. He could smell it- they did have a sense of smell, though it was usually saved for cleaning or to smell potential hazards like chemicals- the moment he opened it, sweet and rich. Hardly pausing to savor it any longer, he took a large bite, chewing a few times.

And immediately stopped.

This. This was.. he couldn’t even describe it, or do it justice.

This was like beating Trott in Trials, going outside and walking around, finding the perfect beat, all at once. Like his Superdry hoodie when it had just been washed.

The best thing in the world, and he needed more of it.

But when he went to take another bite, all he got was air, and a bit of wrapper. Ross blinked, coming back to himself and looking down at his hand. He must have started eating again as he’d been thinking.

That meant..

“Smith! Smith, when are you going to the shops next?”


	7. grocery stores (or: ross learns an important lesson)

Trott had known this was a bad idea from the moment Ross thought of it.

Not just this stupid plan he’d dreamt up, but this whole being able to eat business. Of course he’d thought of it, himself- being as human as possible would be amazing, and he was always up for some new experience. That said, it wasn’t really a priority to him. He’d be just fine without the sense of taste, there were plenty of other things to learn about.

But Ross was obsessed, and had fairly guilted Alex into making it happen.

After his first bar of chocolate, the taller construct had rushed to find Alex, begging him to go back to the shop and get more of the confectionery. The engineer, in turn, had rolled his eyes and given in, buying a few more and handing them over.

Surely, he’d become sick of it; too much sweetness and that’ll happen, same with anything.

Except it didn’t. At all.

Ross had scarfed them all almost immediately, needing more and more of the flavor, and when he was back down to naught but a few bits of wrapper and empty space, he’d immediately looked up to the fairly stunned human, asking for more.

Of course, his work the way it was, Alex didn’t exactly have the money to spend on Kinder bar after Kinder bar- he had enough to live on fairly comfortably, along with a bit to save and occasionally use on a treat, but that was all.

So, he refused. Ross would get more the next time he got one for himself, and no sooner. You can’t have sweets all the time, that’s how it works for humans, so you’ll have to be patient.

And Ross, of course, thought that was a load of shit, and come up with his plan.

He- and the rather unwilling Trott- would go out on their own and get what he wanted, and return home before Smith found out.

Again, bad idea, stupid plan. But he had to look out for his fellow android- they were friends, after all.

That, and Ross could be very unpredictable.

It was the first time they were out without Smith, so it was kind of an important milestone, but the taller of the pair was a bit too focused on his end goal to care very much, pulling his companion along the pavement instead of enjoying the unusually nice day.

“Ross, fuck’s sake, it’s not going to disappear!” Trott dug in his heels, attempting to slow him down. “We don’t have to run, we have plenty of time.”

“If we take our time, we’ll still have Kinder when he comes back. I’d rather not explain myself, now, come on!” Ross tugged harder, hurrying toward his destination.

The way he eats them, we won’t have any by the time we get back, the smaller construct mused, giving Ross’ back a dry look.

The two of them encountered a bit of a problem, one that Trott realized just as they were about to enter the shop.

“Ross?”

“Hm?”

“How d’you expect to pay for those? You don’t have any money.”

Oh. Ross blinked, first down at Trott, then at the doors. “Well.. shit.” He deflated a little, now seriously rethinking his plan. Oh, god, it shouldn’t look that sad. He looked like a kicked puppy.

He was even whimpering.

Trott sighed. “I think I have some back home. A little. You _stay_ here, right here, and I’ll be back. And don’t try to play thief, alright?”

“What? I wouldn’t steal anything!” He looked affronted, gaping at Trott. “I would never do that!”

“If you say so.” He wasn’t sure if he believed his friend or not.

 

He really wasn’t expecting to see what he did when he returned.

Ross was still outside- and Kinder-less, as far as he could tell- but he had a new companion, currently rolled over on his back, getting his belly rubbed. **[Dog, yellow labrador; young male.]**

“Where’d you find a dog?” Ross looked up at him, a little startled.

“Someone left him here when they went inside. Dogs are fantastic, Trott, great company. And really soft, too.” He patted the dog’s head, making him narrow his eyes in pleasure.

“…You aren’t gonna steal him, are-”

“No, I’m not going to! Probably.” At Trott’s look, he held up his hands. “No, I promise! No thievery, I don’t know what they’d do to a robot in prison.”

“I don’t think you’d go to prison, but let’s not test that out. Come on, you said you wanted some Kinder, so let’s go get some.” After waiting for Ross to stop patting his new friend- who gave such a pitiable whine that he had to grab the android to keep him from going back- the two of them entered the shop.

 

And got out, with very little trouble, with a very surprising amount of confectionery.

It went much better than Trott had originally expected, and he thought- though he was now completely broke- that it hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all.

Until, of course, about fifteen minutes after Ross had finished his last bar.

“Ugh..”

Trott glanced up to see the dark-haired construct curled up in his spot on the couch, both arms wrapped around his middle. He looked fully miserable.

“What’s happened to you?” His brow furrowed slightly in concern, and he moved a little closer, looking over his outer casing. Nothing wrong there- he looked completely intact, human as ever, save for the expression on his face.

“I don’t know, but it _hurts_.” Ross’ voice was tight, and he looked up at his friend.

Alex had, of course, implemented a sort of ‘pain’ for them both; not because he wanted them to hurt, but because it made them more human, and so they’d stop something before they damaged themselves. They both knew, from experience, just how bad it could get, and what could cause it.

But not this.

“Did you do something? Maybe you damaged that part at some point?”

“No!” Ross curled up a little more. “I didn’t do anything, not since we got home. I just ate my Kinder and sat down next to you, and now I _hurt_.”

“A malfunction, then?” His confusion and worry was starting to spread- they hadn’t heard of random pain before, and any malfunction was typically small enough that they didn’t need to worry about it too much, just ask for it to be fixed when it could be. “Check diagnostics, see if there’s an error.”

Well, that might just work. **< Skeletal structure intact; circuitry intact, sending correct signals; hydraulics and fluid transport unobstructed; no bugs found; tank full, please empty.>**

Tank full. Oh, right, that.

“Excuse me for a minute.” Trott looked after his friend, confused, and found him to be very much relieved upon his return.

He raised an eyebrow. “Better? And what happened?”

Ross sighed, resting his hands on his middle and leaning back into the cushions, tossing one of the pillows aside as it got in his way. “Much. Tank was full. Had to empty it.”

“So, you ate too much. Knew it’d happen at some point.”

The pair of androids looked up, startled; they hadn’t even heard Alex come in. He locked the door behind him, looking entirely too smug about what happened.

“You knew? And you didn’t warn him?” Trott stared at him incredulously.

“Nope. Something he’d need to figure out on his own, like people do. There’s a point where you can’t eat any more- stop long before that, and you won’t get a stomachache.” He shrugged, then turned to Ross. “What’d you eat, then?”

He didn’t answer, looking away from his creator.

“Trott, what’d he eat?”

Oh, don’t bring me into this.. The other robot sighed, crossing his arms. “Kinder. A load of it.”

He blinked, puzzled. “But we don’t have.. you went outside? And bought chocolate?”

“That’s about it, yeah.”

“…You _did_ buy it, right? You didn’t-”

“Fuck’s sake, no, we didn’t!” Ross yelped, quite frustrated. “I wouldn’t steal anything, and you both know it! Trott had money, he bought it for me!”

“Only because you wouldn’t stop whining unless I did!”

“I wasn’t-”

“Oh, shut _up_ ,” the sole human interjected, looking more than a touch annoyed. “I told you both not to, but you did it anyway. You’re both adults, sort of, so I can’t really punish you for anything. Not into that. Maybe if Trott is.”

He snorted. “You know it. What are you going to do, then?”

Alex shrugged. “Nothing. Already learned his lesson, didn’t he?”

“Right, empty my tank when I eat a load of Kinder, got it.” Ross nodded once, emphasizing that he did, in fact, get it.

“Wha- no, that’s not- I meant, you can’t always have what you want to have.”

The taller android frowned, confused. “How was that supposed to teach me that? I can have it whenever I want- so long as I remember to empty my tank, I’m good. Can eat all the Kinder I like.”

The redhead blinked at him, honestly not sure if Ross was being genuine or trolling him. To be fair, it could have gone either way.

“I can, right?”

“You know, I could just take out your upgrades-”

“No, no, I’ve got it!” Ross raised his hands, eyes wide. “Moderation, yeah, promise!”

Well… they’d see just how that one worked out.


	8. trott gets a hobby

I remember E.R.I.C.

Do you remember him? You don’t?

You monster.

Not that you’re in bad company- Alex didn’t either.

After making him, he’d decided it really just wasn’t worth it- he’d made amazing little gadgets and automations since his first activation, and they all worked near-perfectly. He’d even gone on to larger projects, and then created the two androids who were- pretty much- his best friends.

No need for an obnoxious, clunky little bird made of metal and rudimentary circuitry. So he shut him off and shoved him into a corner of his workshop, a long time ago.

The same workshop Trott had managed to be able to clean.

After quite a bit of negotiating and an override of the program keeping him from entering that Alex never actually got rid of. Of course.

It was a huge task, but it would keep him busy- with Alex at work and Ross doing.. honestly, he rarely knew what he was doing, anymore. Either walking to the dog park or creating tunes. Or both at once.

Hey, his time, his choice.

With the number of library books he hadn’t read dwindling rapidly, he needed something to do, and cleaning and reorganizing the little workshop to be less cluttered would work perfectly.

 

It was a little harder than he’d thought, to be perfectly honest.

Wires and cables tangled together in near-impossible clumps, laying a dangerous trap for anyone deciding to walk in the room by forming loops perfect for catching unsuspecting feet. Scrap bits of metal and high-grade plastics littered the workbench and tool table, tossed every which way with no thought to organization; sharp-edged tools lay in close quarters with those, forming what really could be tiger traps combined with the aforementioned cords.

That, and it really wasn’t very _clean_ ; benches stained with coolant and lubrication fluids, and the occasional splash of rusty brown that Trott just _knew_ wasn’t from someone’s snack or aftermath of it. Scorch marks shaded the wood and metal black, and in the very edges and the more unused spaces, a fine layer of dust covered anywhere it could.

Jesus… he knew Alex could be messy, but one would think his workspace would be at least somewhat navigable!

It was a challenge, but he said he’d do it, and damn it, he would.

So, with every bit of determination and cleaning supplies he could muster, he set at it.

 

It took days of work, and that was with no break whatsoever, save for mandatory recharging times. He’d fall into the big, warm bed with hardly an ounce of power to spare, leaving one of his friends to plug him in, and the second he awoke, fully recharged, he’d disentangle himself from the comfortable pile they always found themselves in to go back to work.

It was lonely and difficult, no lie, but it needed to be done as soon as possible.

On the last day, it was really just making sure everything was where it needed to be. The scraps and leftovers were carefully sorted, put in bins and not out in the open; same with the tools. The cords had been painstakingly loosened and wound up, tied together and placed according to type. Though some stains were too far gone to clean, the benches were almost- new, with only the occasional dark mark, and every bit of dust had been swept up.

Honestly, he was incredibly proud of himself.

Trott scanned the room one last time, looking for anything out of place, anything that needed to be adjusted before showing off his work- and paused.

There, in the corner, was a small lump of metal- well, a touch smaller than his own torso- without any distinguishing features. At least, as far as he could tell. Well, let’s see… **[Common steel, several years old. Closer inspection shows avian shape.]**

Avian? A bird? Brow furrowing, curious, Trott moved a bit closer, lifting up the construction. Sure enough, there it was- crude, yes, but still recognizable as a bird. Long neck, two legs, beak… **[Ostrich, or emu, judging by posture and proportion.]** Well, he was glad he’d read all of those wildlife journals.

But was it a statue, just a crude rendering, or an automation? His fingers very carefully brushed over the creation’s metal body, searching for some sort of access panel, like his own. He did find something, but it wasn’t quite as advanced as his own; taking one of the screwdrivers hanging from its proper place, he carefully opened it up.

That certainly _looked_ like a terminal. An early creation of Alex’s, something he’d never seen before! Maybe he’d be excited to find it- after all, he may have lost it due to the immense clutter. Two things for him to look forward to. Excellent.

 

“Well, come on, hurry! I worked hard on this.” Trott stood impatiently, waiting for the redheaded man to catch up to him.

“I _know_ you did, Trott,” came the reply. “You nearly crushed me every night when you crashed.” His tone carried more than a touch of irritation, but it didn’t bother Trott in the slightest.

“I said I was sorry. Look!” The android promptly opened up the door, showcasing his work. “Clean and organized. Might get things done faster, hm?”

He got a light shove in response. “Well, now I don’t know where to find anything!” Alex was joking, of course- he couldn’t miss the labels and careful placement. “Thanks, mate.”

“You’re welcome, but you missed something. On the bench.”

Alex raised an eyebrow in his direction, but turned to face the bench. There, standing quite well despite the years of disuse, was E.R.I.C.. He looked a little shinier than he had the last time he saw him, but there was no denying that crude design.

“Oh, him.”

Trott blinked at him. That was it? “Aren’t you excited to see him? He was one of your first, right? I thought you’d have wanted to find him.”

“Eh.. not really.” The human shrugged, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head. “He’s clunky and old, and even at the start he didn’t work too well. I appreciate it, I guess, but I wasn’t exactly trying to find him. Sorry.”

The android’s face fell for a moment, looking between the metal bird and his creator, before resolving into a more curious look. “…Smith?”

“Yeah, mate?”

“Mind if I try?”

It was the engineer’s own turn to look confused. “Try what?”

“Try to make him work,” Trott replied simply, looking at him. “I mean, look at me. I know how I work, from what you’ve programmed and told me. He’s a bird- surely it won’t be too complicated.”

He’d never actually expressed an interest in building, despite his own existence, but if he really wanted to… “Sure, but it’s your own project. You handle it.”

The excitement on his face made the human turn away- he couldn’t look at it for too long. It was like the sun- wonderful and important, but hazardous if looked at for more than a short period of time. “Thanks, Smith.”

“It’s alright. Just.. don’t spend _all_ of your time and energy on it?” Steeling himself for more of that look, Alex turned back. “I don’t want to be nearly crushed again, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, promise.” But Trott wasn’t even looking at him anymore, having moved in favor of inspecting the metal creature once more.

It took him a lot longer than cleaning up the workshop, for several reasons: building was new to him, despite his knowledge, and he kept his promise to Alex.

Even if he still got up early to work.

The android wasn’t too bad at design, and had managed to sketch out what he imagined the finished E.R.I.C. to look like: half bird, half dragon, with a shiny black casing and glowing red eyes. An impressive image, for sure.

And, luckily, he matched it fairly well. He didn’t look as realistic as either he or Ross did, but the point wasn’t realism. A similar alloy to his own skeleton was used, allowing him balance and strength, as well as the ability to move properly. Adjustments to the material used for their outer casing, in addition to some feathers he’d managed to procure but refused to tell his friends the source, allowed for his scale and feather exterior. A few tweaks even allowed for short periods of flight!

Well.. hopping and then gliding a little. Close enough.

The circuitry was difficult, of course, and he very nearly went to his own creator for tips until he remembered: his own project. He needed to do this himself. At least it was a simple one- act as birdlike as possible, no need for much of a personality.

When he unveiled his finished project, his friends were suitably impressed. He’d done incredibly well for his first work, and, as much as they ribbed and insulted, they were proud of him.

That is, until they discovered the one thing Trott decided not to change: his ‘voice’.

Dear _god_ , was the creature loud. Awful honks and cries, and they rarely ceased, happening at any time of day or night, in response to both anything and nothing.

The worst part was Ross felt the need to imitate him, and they’d often go back and forth for hours.

Still, Trott seemed to love the little beast, so they (meaning Smith) didn’t make good on their (his) many threats to get rid of him. Even when Trott left him for long stretches of time.

And insulted him, himself.

Maybe he really didn’t care.

Well, if he didn’t care about him, maybe, Ross thought, he could play, too.

 

It wasn’t much of anything, really. He just went into the damp back garden with the creature, having him hop up and glide around to follow him. They weren’t doing much else that day, anyway, and it was surprisingly fun, despite the awful noises E.R.I.C. kept making.

That is, until Trott showed up.

“What are you doing? Take him back inside!” Ross rolled his eyes at his frantic friend.

“Trott, nothing’s happening. I’m just letting him stretch his wings.”

“You know,” Smith called from his own spot at the back door, “like you rarely do anymore.”

“Fuck you, of course I do! Ross, take him back! He’s not supposed to be out here.” He hadn’t been waterproofed, not as he and Ross were. This much water would be bad for him- he couldn’t risk it.

“Alright, fine,” the taller construct sighed, lifting the creature after it touched back down. “Going inside, so he can sit in the workshop again.”

The moment Ross passed Alex, however, the human snatched the ‘bird’ from his hands, holding it away. “No, Trott, look- you know he likes going out, and now he’s out!”

“Seriously, put him back! He can’t be out-”

“Fuck’s sake, yes, he can! He calms down if he’s allowed to glide around, and I don’t know about you, but I prefer to have a quiet night’s sleep. Go on, E.R.I.C., glide.” With that, he tossed the construct into the air, giving him a bit of a boost, to which he’d normally open his wings and glide several feet away.

This time, he crashed to the ground with a nearly-comical thud.

The three stared down at him for a few seconds, a little stunned, before the shorter android rounded on Alex.

“You killed him! You killed E.R.I.C.!”

The man backed up a few steps, holding his hands up in defense. “Look, he’s probably better off this way! He’s not cooped up, and he won’t make those fucking awful honks at night, or at any other time!”

“You killed him; he was my pet!” Trott knelt to take a look, finding the circuits fried; from the damp, no doubt. “You piece of shit, I’m-”

Alex snorted, waving a hand. “You’ll be over him in an hour. Put him back in the workshop like you wanted.” With that, he turned to go back in the house.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Trott- or any robot, really- sulk for so long before. It was almost enough- _almost_ \- for him to try and fix it.

But when the next morning came and Trott started on plans for a new and improved pet project, E.R.I.C. was quickly pushed out of their minds.


	9. mixed feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the finale of this story, but there's plenty more left of this au!

It had been months.

Months since Alex had even started to build Trott, maybe a little over a year.

The pair of constructs had learned incredibly quickly, from both experience and programming. They had more than just basic personalities, as he’d given them; they thought and they learned and solved, created.

They could make music, walk, talk, and run around, and above all else, they looked human. Exactly as little five-year-old Alex Smith had dreamed about. His dream fulfilled before most people even knew what theirs was.

They were his best friends, nevermind that he created them. He’d never been too terribly sentimental, but they meant a hell of a lot more to him than just about anything else.

Which is why he really didn’t want to do this.

He stood in front of his companions, who sat on the couch, wonder what, exactly, this was about. Sure, they’d had meetings and talks before, about work or some misfortune or what have you, but..

Their creator had never looked so torn up about it, before. His wavy hair was even more dishevelled, sticking up in random places as though he’d been running his hands through it. He sagged, shoulders sloping down, knees bent slightly, seemingly unable to hold whatever he was about to share any longer, and his face- which rarely went long without some hint of a smile- was dark and serious.

Almost, they thought, _sad_.

“Smith?” Ross watched him carefully, a concerned wrinkle forming on his brow. “Everything okay?”

The man didn’t answer, still looking at the floor, a little unfocused. He seemed to be fighting with himself, some sort of internal debate.

“Smith?” Trott’s turn to try, and he spoke a little louder. “Are you there, mate? What’s wrong?”

Alex finally looked up at them, faintly surprised. Like he’d forgotten they were even there. “Oh, yeah. I need to talk to both of you.”

“I gathered, yeah,” the taller of the constructs replied. “What about? Did something happen?”

“No. Yes. Sort of.” His mouth twisted, nose wrinkling as he thought of exactly how to explain himself. As much as this needed to be done, he didn’t want them to get the wrong idea- what if something happened? “You two have learned a lot. Really, maybe you know more than even I do.” It’s a weak attempt at humor.

“Thank you?” Trott frowned. “What are you getting at?”

“I mean, you _know_ a lot. You know what I know, maybe more, and sometimes, even I don’t even remember that you’re androids. If you can make me think that, and be able to go outside to shops and parks and everything, without even being noticed, I’d say you’ve done well. You’re pretty much human.”

He was taking the long way around, and the both of them knew it. “And? Skip to the end.”

The android got a glare in return. “ _And_.. I think you should both go and learn more. Whatever you want to, go for it.”

The pair on the couch blinked. That’s it? This whole build up, with Alex looking like he was about to fall apart in one way or another, being so gravely serious.. for him telling them that? “Alright,” Trott answered, slowly. “I think we were going to, anyway. No sense in stopping now, right?”

His companion agreed. “Getting boring not trying anything new. Too many things to try to just stay here.”

“Oh.” He looked even more upset than before, but only for a moment, quickly changing into some imitation of relief. “Good, exactly. Have years left, no need to stay here forever, not with everything out there.” He tilted his head, indicating the world outside. “That’s all, just.. back to what you were doing, then.”

He’d never gone to his workroom so quickly before.

 

It was so difficult for him to sleep that night.

Probably one of the things he envied about his creations- there was no way they could stay up, sleepless and worrying. They powered down every single night.

Lucky bastards.

After doing something he rarely, if ever, did- an unnecessarily long group hug, which confused the two androids greatly, as he never showed that much blatant affection, ever- the both plugged in, said their good nights, and fell asleep.

Leaving him in this position.

They _wanted_ to go. Wanted to leave and go live as humans. Which was good, really, something they likely should do, as the next step.

It’s what he’d wanted them to do, eventually.

But here was that time, and he didn’t want it anymore. He’d gotten used to their presence, and he almost felt selfish- sure, they’d be friends, but would they stay? Sometimes people just move on, that’s how it all works.

That didn’t mean he wanted it to happen, though. They meant too much for that.

But he couldn’t keep them from something they really wanted, no matter his own desires; with a sigh, he turned over to press his face into the pillow, hoping to get some sleep.

Last night of comfort- may as well enjoy it.

 

When he woke up, neither construct was beside him. Must have just left him to sleep.

They chose not to during the week, always the alarm clocks. Supposed he’d have to get a new one, now. Groaning, Alex rolled out of bed, flattening his bedhead with one hand and searching for the door handle with another. After stumbling out into the hall and taking care of his business, he reluctantly went out into the main room, fully expecting to be alone.

“Hey, morning.” Ross waved at him from his reclined position on the couch, only sparing a glance before going back to the laptop on his stomach.

So, he was still here- a little surprised, Alex only mumbled his own greeting. “Budge up.” He pushed at Ross’ feet, forcing him to sit up properly so that he could sprawl over the empty space. “Trott’s gone?”

“Yep. Left a little while ago.” Ross didn’t take his eyes off of the screen. Well, he certainly seemed upset. Androids.

“Mm. So It’s just you and me?” He had to admit, it hurt to see the smaller creation’s presence was hardly even missed. Even if he did still have Ross.. it wasn’t the same, not really. He already missed him, sappy as it sounded.

“Until it’s my turn. We’ve got a little while.” Wait, what?

“Not your turn?” What kind of sense did that make?

Ross gave him an odd look. “Yeah. Not my turn. Have a few hours, and why not spend them here?”

Maybe Ross was a little more sympathetic than he’d thought. “Suppose you’re right.” He paused for a few minutes, watching the dark screen in front of them, fingers toying with the remote control. “Want to play a game before you go?”

The tapping at the keyboard stopped, and after a few moments, whatever Ross had been doing was saved, allowing for him to shut down the computer. “Sure; I know you’ll win, but I’ll play.”

“You’re so hopeless! See, that’s the difference between you and Trott,” Alex started, handing over a second controller, “You give up before we even start something.”

“Are you gonna keep comparing us, or do you want to prove me right?”

Without another word, the human started the game.

 

Now, he was alone.

Ross actually had beaten him, and in the midst of his victory yell- along the lines of GFY, of course- he realized it was time for him to leave. With a hurried goodbye to his creator, the android was out the door.

Leaving him to sit on the couch and mope.

He hardly even got to say goodbye to either of his friends, much less wish them luck, and he had no idea if they’d stay in touch. Maybe they’d forget? No, he made it so they couldn’t, but.. Trott knew his way around machinery just about as well as Alex, himself. If anyone could figure how to override it and delete something, it’d be him.

No, he was Alex Smith, and Alex Smith didn’t sit around and act like this, not for long! He needed to get up and move on- if they wanted to come back, they could. Their choice, and sulking wouldn’t do a fucking thing.

Too bad even his supposedly rousing speech didn’t do much.

“Smith?”

Huh? The redhead looked towards the door, where the brunette android was just shutting it behind him, a confused look on his face.

“Everything alright? You look even worse than you did yesterday.”

He paid the insult no mind. “You’re here?”

“Yeah, because I _live_ here,” he answered, slowly, as if he were a child. “Of course I’d be here, where’d you think I’d go?”

“Clearly not here! You said you wanted to go and learn things, so why come back?”

A pause, and then..

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Trott sighed and crossed over to sit beside him, dropping his bag to the floor. “Yeah, go and learn, but not _leave_ to learn. We found places to go, yeah, but they’re not our homes or anything. That’s here, with our friends. That’s what we meant.”

“But I meant.. oh.” Good job on that one. You can talk, but you can’t explain. “So you’re staying with me?”

“Of course we are. Can’t leave you for two seconds without you looking like Ross when he needs to come home from the dog park.” It got a bit of a laugh, and Trott shoved him lightly. “You’re our best mate. We’re not leaving for quite a while, promise.”

It only ended up being explained again later on, when Ross came back home; he’d wanted to know why his creator had been so upset.

Other than his loss, of course.

“So, what you’re saying, is that this is pretty much your fault?” Alex gaped at him.

“No, it’s not!”

“Well, had you said what you _meant_ instead of trying to be cryptic,” Ross continues, “you wouldn’t have looked like you were about to opt out, and we wouldn’t have spent most of the day worrying about it.”

“That doesn’t make it my fault! It just means that-”

“It’s partly your fault, mate,” Trott interrupted, flopping down in between the two. Best way to keep them from fighting, he’d found. “If you’re finished- Ross, you beat him?”

“He got lucky,” Alex grumbled. “But if he can beat me, maybe he’ll beat you next time.”

Trott’s expression turned serious, and he reached for the controllers.

“We’ll just see about that.”


End file.
